(jittersongs)

Poems by Dan B.

Table of Contents move tree circles Brain noise interludes 1 2 and 3 green blue summer camp trip getting bad Life man with the pointed red hat Benches Forests Life Identity in Just A Dream Within A Dream God's Wheel A Supermarket In California Brown Penny Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Dan B. Aj B. Aj B. Evan F. Evan F. E. E. Cummings Edgar Allan Poe Shel Silverstein Allen Ginsberg W. B. Yeats

MOVE Fingers dance on keys tap on desks write languid sloping loops clench in fists Legs run jump jitter and jive trees sway in the breeze drop floating leaves which roll over and under an unsteady lake of brown interrupted by a bend and snap bugs dart crawl hover and fly Wind blows screams howls, and finally stands still

TREE a tall tree so nice and cool in the heat of the day like a green umbrella it keeps a patchy shade the green light that filters through is so cool and calming on my skin feels nice and blue

GEORGES QUEST (This poem is not in the table of context, so its kind of a surprise. HAPPY BIRTHDAY) there once was a man named George he was quite a large man and one day he had an idea when he woke up he briefly forgot it in favor of breakfast but later remembered and he decided to kill a king. a little background would be nice George lived in the kingdom of solet and in solet was a king named Ethan Ethan had many concubines but no wife and because of this he was TERRIBLY BITTER his favorite concubine was Gertrude but in his private times he called her Gertie on Ethans 19th birthday he had an enormous party with punch and ice, which in the kingdom of solet, was incredibly rare. now some little trickster, his name was Robert but thats irrelevant, chipped the glass of the punchbowl. needless to say, by this time everyone was in high spirits

so when Gertie choked on the ice everyone assumed she was pretending. and even more needless to say she died the king Ethan who had become quite attached to Gertie ran away in a furious rage to the mountains of mero to live in solitude. from his mountain fortress he could see all the way to over the lair of the byu the big yonder underground and the place of a mighty magician, joey smith. now to make a very long and tedious story short and simple. the magician got into Ethans mind and drove him MAD while mad the king imposed rigorous taxes and sodomy to everyone inconsequentially named Robert. Georges brother was named Robert and had been traumatized by the kings evil. so George went on his quest to KILL THAT GODDA** KING.

CIRCLES circles they go round and round and round the start becomes the end. but then the start again, its good to know for second chances. life is a wheel and we all say thankya. so go on and call this a diamond but it means the same, a circle it is and a circle itll stay the earth is a sphere and a spheres a circle. good to live in round again BRAIN NOISE inspiration what is not the google chrome rather the Mozilla firedog Alexis has a schedule and Ethan has some hair tate has a look thats not quite there he thinks his last name is awesome and snoop dog is making fun of Adam ,. Adam ,. Adam ,. look

[INTERLUDE] cat warm soft stalking talking rolling brown white black cat big small tiger Where Houston Erving Russia England ? whistling breeze calm seas stinging bees long grassy hills the ocean life

GREEN grass tall green shoots spring from the earth crawling in luxurious shade a rolling bug its shell a dusty purple crawls through the tall green jungle of lawn a single foot to a thousand miles of green green green green green Blue look at the sky, look at the river, isnt it blue. look at the eyes , look at the ocean , isnt it blue. look at the stars, look at the moon, isnt it blue. the most majestic and lonely color is blue

Summer Camp Trip Big tall grey where the clouds play way up high in the sky Rock rivers of Granite the most beautiful place on the planet with a pack by the lake set up tents pounding stakes scary stories by the fire shooting stars like glowing wire full of wonder distant thunder floats in over the trees this is the place to be

GETTING BAD I dont regret running away, or fighting with my brother. I dont regret smoking all day, or stealing from my mother. I dont regret slipping away, from this world to another. I dont regret being a selfish sh*t, and screwing everyone. I dont regret not taking just a bit, and blazing like the sun. I dont regret tripping on acid, or snorting ketamine. I dont regret selling drugs to kids, and just being mean. because all that sh*t got me where I am doing better than I would have had if I had been a normal child and never gotten bad,

Life back and forth the man chases the moon coming soon? the cougar sits with brown eyes a'dreaming we all say thankya that he's a'sleepin. wild rivers rush and tumble rock collide, crash and crumble. this is our world and its converse nonsense it seems but its how it works

THE MAN WITH THE POINTED RED HAT The man with the pointed red hat (eyes) (cone) sits twisted and naked on his throne (chair) with jumping thoughts and jittery language (dreams) he wallows within his glam, {watch for the wandering man} (who) through spiraled poison and houses of wax. (through wheres and whens untold) he walks to endwhere and approaches the throne (chair) of the man with the pointed red had {waits}(eyes) (cone(tower(castle) he arrives to stand and be true (knight) red eyes arise with jittering thoughts inside the pointed red (cone(hat(tower(castle) with a six gun in hand his enemy strikes (fear) the red hated an returns to his (throne) chair still twisted and naked now slumped. his glam depleted and gone. and the spell he cast and the rest of his fun is gone and gone (but) his pointed red hat (eyes(cone(hat( tower(crown and castle) remains next to the (throne) chair to point and point and stare.

Benches by Aj Benches make me feel free, just by looking at the sea. there are no boundary ahead of me, Endless sand, as far as the eye can see a massive body of water, stretches out before me. the sound of birds. the sound of crushing water calms me

Forest by Aj a wintery forest covered in white, glistening powder. Theres a sense of tranquility, and only dead silence the winter is death, but adventurous, nevertheless, a new world begins, come spring the summer is hot, but the trees cool me. ime in the shade, staring at the trees canopies. with light shining down on me. siting there thinking about life, and how it circles, in and out. from death to life, to life to death. death begins, turning green leafs, into autumn sorcery.

i thank you God for most this amazing by E. E. Cummings i thank You God for most this amazing day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything wich is natural which is infinite which is yes (i who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth day of life and love and wings:and of the gay great happening illimitably earth) how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any-lifted from the no of all nothing-human merely being doubt unimaginable You? (now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

Life by Evan F. I was eating a hamburger. John was asleep in his crib Mom was doing the dishes Dad came in stumbling, a glass bottle in hand. "I can't believe you, you piece of crap! I've given you food, water, shelter, and now, you whore, you go around sleeping with whoever you want" "George, I'd never do such a thing." She was sobbing and wiped her red eyes with her old grey nightgown. "I love you!" "Bullsh*t." He was yelling. The kitchen pots rattled with his voice. John started crying, but no one paid attention to him. I looked toward my father. I was terrified. This man, he conceived me. How could he be so cold-hearted? Why can't he love us? I wished so badly for a father who loved me who came home with a briefcase in hand smiling,

telling his wife he loved her. A real father. This man, he was no father. "What are you looking at, Junior?" Before I could respond, broken glass was tearing my skin. I was bleeding uncontrollably. This family, it is too much. The yelling, the screaming, the pain. I can't take it anymore! Why can't someone besides the damn dog love me unconditionally? I run my fingers down the scars from the glass bottle. What point is there in living? I start scratching into them, harder and harder. The skin starts breaking. Blood begins to trickle out. When will this all end?

Identity by Evan F. I am the one who is anxious I am the one who seeks attention I am the one who yells and screams I am the one who has low self-esteem I am the one who annoys many people I am the one who runs out of class crying I am the one who gets frustrated writing I am the one who threatens suicide I am the one who is at a residential treatment center I am the one who needs to, and will, improve

in Just- by E. E. Cummings in Justspring when the world is mudluscious the little lame baloonman whistles far and wee and eddyandbill come running from marbles and piracies and it's spring when the world is puddle-wonderful the queer old baloonman whistles far and wee and bettyandisbel come dancing from hop-scotch and jump-rope and it's spring and the

goat-footed baloonMan whistles far and wee

A Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow-You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand-How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep--while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?

God's Wheel by Shel Silverstein GOD says to me with a kind of smile, "Hey how would you like to be God awhile And steer the world?" "Okay," says I, "I'll give it a try. Where do I set? How much do I get? What time is lunch? When can I quit?" "Gimme back that wheel," says GOD. "I don't think you're quite ready YET."

A Supermarket In California by Allen Ginsberg What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon. In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations! What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you, Garca Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons? I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys. I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you

my Angel? I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective. We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier. Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight? (I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.) Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely. Will we stroll dreaming ofthe lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage? Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courageteacher, what America did you have when Charon quit

poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe? Berkeley 1955

Brown Penny by William Butler Yeats I whispered, 'I am too young,' And then, 'I am old enough'; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. 'Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair.' Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair. O love is the crooked thing, There is nobody wise enough To find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon. Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon.